I wander about in idle parody,
And walking seems more tough.
And suddenly the sky seems so near,
Am I not high enough?
As I walk and stagger,
Passing women grace me with lustful stares.
The jealous men gather,
And parade me with angry glares.
The vehicles rhythm in attention’s clamour,
My climax time is near.
My nudeness, my naked glamour,
Makes the crowding children cheer
Why is it my genarator’s hum refuses to tune,
My dancing steps are beat.
My neighbors smother me with eulogical fumes,
All admiring my feats.
Why is it my father’s finger tastes edible?
Like sugar dipped in honey.
Maybe today he’ll think of me more noble,
I’ve gambled away all my money.
Now, I’ll climb up to the highest valley,
And there feeling the breeze I’ll chime,
And I jump up and miss death so narrowly,
I’ll shout, “death, jokes on you this time.”
Poems of Peete